


Orbit

by Jenna_Nicole



Series: Killervibe One-Shots 2020 [7]
Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Episode: s05e07 Oh Come all ye thankful, F/M, Fluff, KillerVibe - Freeform, takes place the day after, thatkillervibe wanted them to go on a date
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-23
Updated: 2020-06-23
Packaged: 2021-03-04 05:13:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,211
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24868153
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jenna_Nicole/pseuds/Jenna_Nicole
Summary: "That’s not what I meant to say.”Sweet, vulnerable, open, always in her orbit, Cisco Ramon. She had to admit, his words had taken her out a bit. By the determination of his eyes, she swore he almost asked for her hand in marriage. “What did you mean to say?”“Dinner,” he said, voice quick and sharp. Then he softened. “I wanted to ask you to go with me to dinner.”“You should have asked,” she said simply. “I would have said yes.”
Relationships: Cisco Ramon/Caitlin Snow
Series: Killervibe One-Shots 2020 [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1696453
Comments: 8
Kudos: 19





	Orbit

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Thatkillervibe](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thatkillervibe/gifts).



Their relationship had never been complicated. Always so straightforward. Always clear. Their roles, perhaps they would change in time. Sure, their titles may change. Most things wouldn't. 

They both could remember well when they were just in each other’s orbits. Just friendly acquaintances at work. Friends that could listen well. Friends that would do favors and bring each other coffee. Friends that were there when the world was caving in. 

Friends turned to best friends, and that was irreversible. 

Cisco would always be in Caitlin’s orbit. If she tried to travel to a different solar system she knew Cisco would be stealing a rocketship to follow her into the unknown. He was like a massive, overwhelming black hole, magnetic and all-consuming. She would almost lose balance at first when she realized he cared for her _that_ much. 

She was different. It took her a long time to be completely open with him. Contrary to Cisco who wouldn’t just keep his heart on his sleeve but instead decided to wear it boldly on his own face. She was quiet about it. She cared, and he knew it, but she had never been as expressive. It took many years for her to give him the openness that was only a fraction of what he had given her. He never seemed to mind it, though. He seemed overjoyed to have the fraction.

Time passed on faster than anyone expected. Their friendship became more than friendship, but they chose not to label it anything else. 

They would say things like “my friend Caitlin looks beautiful tonight, doesn’t she?” or “My best friend Cisco spent the night. We made cookies.” “Cisco and Caitlin, yeah, they’re friends. They’d do anything for each other.” “Cisco spent all night talking to me. He’s such a good friend.” “Caitlin is my best friend. If she needs me, I’m there.” “I can’t believe it, Cisco. I really don’t deserve a friend like you.” “She’s my friend!” “I’m his friend.” “She comes first.” “He’s the first person I go to.” “It’s natural.” “It’s how we’ve always been.”

_Labels don’t matter_ , they would insist. Their constant “my friend” said otherwise. 

It was the day after Thanksgiving. 

She didn’t bat an eye when he came up to her, eyes sparkling, hand nervously pushed into his pockets, heart clear as day in his face. It was in the way he walked to her that made it clear it was important. He walked to her all the time, every day. But this was a man on a mission. 

“You look nice,” she said to him, eyes flickering away from her task. He was wearing a navy blue button-up, sleeves rolled up, denim tight in the right places. Frizz had made way for his hair to curl just right. She could have said it any day, but she wanted to right then and there. Something about his movements made it natural. 

“So do you.” His voice was soft, less the lighthearted boy she had just spent the night with. He had fallen asleep in Caitlin’s bed, half due to a Thanksgiving food coma, mostly due to a habit they both knew well. Sleeping in the same bed wasn’t exactly abnormal for them. They liked to stick together and there was no shame in that. Yet, shame lit up in his face, as he stood there fidgeting. “You always do.” 

She was flattered. Of course, she was. His opinion meant the world. “Cisco,” she said, part smile, part scold, part question. 

“About yesterday,” he said, suddenly smooth as he slid into the seat beside her. “Operation save the turkey.” 

“Yeah?” she said, eyebrows raised. “What about it?” 

“I really came up with it on the spot.” 

“Of course you did.” 

“Cause that’s not what I meant to say.” 

Sweet, vulnerable, open, always in her orbit, Cisco Ramon. She had to admit, his words had taken her out a bit. By the determination of his eyes, she swore he almost asked for her hand in marriage. “What did you mean to say?” 

“Dinner,” he said, voice quick and sharp. Then he softened. “I wanted to ask you to go with me to dinner.” 

She had gone with him to dinner. With Sherloque, and Barry, and Iris, and Ralph. They had gone as friends. They had gone with friends. Friends, as they always had been. Friends, as they always would be. Best friends. Best friends with best friends. 

“Just the two of us.” 

“You should have asked,” she said simply. “I would have said yes.” 

* * *

It was strange that he didn’t need to clarify. 

He could have said

A date 

As friends 

As best friends 

As more than friends 

He didn’t need to 

They had always been more than friends 

Always had been more than best friends 

No words were needed 

She thought she would have been nervous, stepping into that elevator that carried them to the parking deck. To the car. To the restaurant that they hadn’t decided on yet. Even without words, it seemed clear to her. That this wasn’t the same. Wasn’t the same as any other time they went to dinner. There was conviction in his eyes. Conviction that she always saw when he thought the entire universe was at stake. 

His universe. 

_Her._

They had decided to walk into the city, arms latched together, hands close to touching as they turned at the corner of the street. There was always so much energy in the way he would walk, she couldn’t keep up. He slowed down, nudging her a bit, a smile unhidden. Nothing had changed. She was afraid nothing had changed. 

But afraid something would change too. 

They hadn’t even gone to dinner. Leftovers had been filling on their own. The Star Labs fridge was still packed with stuffing and potatoes, and turkey, and creamed corn. They had eaten it from their desks, avoiding work and making messes. They were stuffed. A walk made more sense. 

“I haven’t been here since they had movies in the park.” 

“Right. You’re scared of horror movies. Some, anyway.” 

“That’s not what I was afraid of that night.” 

He took her hand as he had then, eyes warm and free, not with horror and dread and pain. No damned destiny. No ominous future. Just them. Just them and the cool autumn air, the brushing of their two coats, the pull of his magnetic, black hole eyes. She never wanted to leave his orbit. 

“You know,” she said, keeping her hand latched close to his, warm despite the nearing winter air. “It wasn’t just you that was afraid. I was afraid to lose you too." 

“I know.” He knew. He knew her too well. Sometimes she wasn’t sure why she needed to talk to him. Most of the time they had no trouble speaking with just their faces alone. “So,” he said, daring to wrap her hand completely, firmly, gripping it like it belonged to him. “Here’s to new beginnings.” 

“New beginnings,” she echoed, and they walked on leaving little distance in-between. 

* * *

She was glad they didn’t go to dinner. 

It would have repressed the colorful, dynamic creature that was Cisco Ramon. Posh and pleasant venues wouldn’t have given her the view of life holding onto the other end of her arm. He was like a schoolboy, happy to be alive, happy to be with her. 

She wouldn’t forget Cisco in those little shops, trying on costumes, making conversation with strangers, telling stories he hadn’t told her before. It was strange, to know more about Cisco when she had been sure she knew all she needed to know already. But there was more. More than she had ever thought. It felt like he was coming home. He hadn’t gone anywhere too far, but she had missed him. 

He had almost passed that little shop at the corner with the graphic t-shirts. The place he would always plead and plead to stop at when they would go out together. He would spend hours pointing out all his favorites and always come out with at least two bags. It had been a while. She had made the suggestion and he had obliged and came out with a paper bag. 

She had thought it was too cold for ice cream, but Cisco had insisted. It was worth it to wipe the minty cream from his chin, earning a blush of pink and a light chuckle that made her dizzy. 

Hand in hand, they neared the coast of the lake. Cisco was barefoot, tiptoeing through the sand. Caitlin was cold, edging a bit behind him, rolling her eyes at his hair covered face, being whipped around by the November wind. She was relieved when he didn’t dive into the ice water. 

Sometimes he would walk with his arm over her shoulder. Just as she had the day before. Just as he always did when he wanted to make her dizzy with delight. She was certain he secretly knew he had this effect on her. 

Other times he simply walked beside her, hands in his own pockets but arms brushing hers. He would be shy, sweet, and polite. They would talk about work. He would marvel over her vast intelligence. She would protest and try to convince him of his. 

And then, if either felt particularly brave, their hands might find each other and the grip would not be loose. Sometimes they used the excuse of large crowds to hold onto each other. Sometimes they were alone and had no defense. Tonight Cisco just wanted to touch her. 

He had chased down a closing vendor for a blanket because Caitlin had been cold. She had watched him go, then watched him come, trying to repress a broad smile. He wrapped it around her, over her shoulder and back, pressing it down and rubbing her arms for warmth and friction. She had shaken under his hands, laughing like a child who had never touched a boy before. 

He was quite a sight. She wanted to kiss him but she decided to just take his hand again. 

They walked and walked. The road stretched on. They were nearing her house and she wanted to turn and avoid it. It was silly. She would have invited him anyway. 

But Cisco was the one to turn, dragging her to a bench, skipping down the road like a child with a sugar high. 

They shared the blanket, watching the passing cars, commenting on the smell of a nearby house. Like cinnamon. Like a warm oven. 

Like Cisco. 

“What are we?” 

His answer was immediate. “Best friends.” 

She leaned her head on his shoulder, playing with the strings of his bag. The bag that contained his graphic t-shirts. “Yeah?” 

“Yeah,” he said, and his eyes were serious. 

Captivating. 

Dark in the night like the most threatening black hole. Close as the heat of the sun. But now, far closer than that distant, watchful moon. Not just orbiting her but in the same space. 

He touched her hand, and it was different. It felt different.  _ He _ felt different. 

“Yeah, my best friend. More than that.” 

Well, yeah, she always knew that part. She had called a girl a best friend when she was in high school. They had even been close. But with Cisco, it was much more like romance. Like falling in love. She saw a future with him. Friends or more than friends or something different. He wasn’t just a best friend. She always knew Cisco would be more than that. 

“Yeah, more than a best friend. You’re more than a best friend, Caitlin. You know that, don’t you?” 

“I do.” 

“You always have been.” 

“I feel the same.” 

She would always remember this. 

The smell of cinnamon. The paper bag in her hand. The light blue blanket over her back. Cisco, and the way he captivated. His hand, reaching over her own. The wind slicing through his hair. His sincerity. His magnetic stare. The security of his arms. The lightness in his laugh. 

The burst of courage that made her slide into his space and kiss him. 

It wasn’t shocking. It wasn’t movie theatre magic or a glittery fairytale. She didn’t gasp or feel a fire in her veins. She didn’t feel like the protagonist in a romance novel. 

Instead, it was awkward, clumsy. She almost spilled her drink and he almost stumbled and crashed into her. They were laughing like children. Holding each other up. Passing strangers must have assumed they were drunk. And they were. Drunk on something strong and built up. Too many days of acting like they were in love but refusing to say it. Now they couldn’t even talk cause they were laughing so hard. 

“I love you,” he said, heaving and breathing heavily, tears streaming down his face. 

He said it casually. But he meant it. She knew he meant it. She knew by the weight in his dazzling eyes. She knew by the way he slipped his fingers around her own. She knew, because he was Cisco, and he would never lie to her. 

She wanted to say it too. She would say it too, at the right moment. But for now, she settled for, “Stay the night?” 

“Stay the night.” 


End file.
